


Fabricati Diem (To Protect and Serve)

by minkhollow



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: personakinkmeme, Crossdressing, Multi, No Metaverse (Persona 5), battle butler/maid duo, pronoun ambiguity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-23 20:42:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12516136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minkhollow/pseuds/minkhollow
Summary: "Our job is to keep you safe, and we intend to do just that."In which Haru's father hires some new domestic help to keep an eye on his daughter, and things go far better for her than she'd dared to hope.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Persona Kink Meme: _Basically where Akira and Makoto are a maid/butler duo tasked to serve rich heiress Haru, and who happen to possess superior combat skills, an ability to conceal a wide array of weapons on their person, and whom seemingly cannot step up to protect their mistress without causing huge amounts of property damage. Bonus: if they frequently switch which one of them is the maid and which one of them is the butler._
> 
> I absolutely cashed in those bonus points; as such, pronouns for Akira and Makoto are a) thin on the ground and b) more likely to indicate what they're wearing than anything else. I have some other Notions regarding this continuum, so there may eventually be more.

Haru's father announces at breakfast that he'll be interviewing some new help later in the day, and Haru has to use all her self-control not to visibly wilt. More help means more people beholden to her father, and it doesn't help when he says he intends the new people to stick close to Haru herself; that only increases the odds they'll report back if they catch wind of her stepping out of her proscribed role.

Or that, once the inevitable marriage comes to pass, they'll report indiscretions of any sort to her husband, no matter the consequences for her.

To take her mind off it, she heads for the greenhouse. Officially, the gardener tends to the plants there; unofficially, Haru's been helping him whenever she can get away with it. He's not here today, but if her father is preoccupied with interviews, she's not expecting any interruptions.

"Okumura-san?"

Haru squeaks and drops the trowel she'd just picked up. She recovers it and turns around, only to find a head of dark hair bowed in apology. The person at the greenhouse door is dressed for an interview, not gardening work - not work of any kind, in fact, as far as Haru can tell, but she can't imagine a maid would come to an employment interview in her work clothes.

"I'm terribly sorry," she says. "I thought Father was handling all of the interviews."

"Makoto's in talking to him, yes. But he mentioned that he was looking to hire staff to keep his daughter safe, so we thought one of us should come and find you." Her new companion straightens up from her bow; she's quite charming, in an androgynous sort of way. "My name is Akira. I'm sorry I startled you."

"It's all right. The tools here can take quite a beating, and none of the plants were harmed. And please, call me Haru." Why she's so eager to drop the veneer of politeness so quickly, when this is meant to be a professional conversation of sorts, she can't say, but something in her gut tells her she ought to.

"Very well, Haru-san. Are these plants yours?"

She takes refuge in explaining the greenhouse - somewhere between the family's, for the sake of having pleasing flower arrangements inside the house, and the company's, when her father isn't ready to bring a new vegetable into mass production yet - and allows the conversation to flow from there. Akira is pleasant company, and seems genuinely interested in the plants, which is more than Haru can say for anyone she's talked to in the last several months, other than the gardener.

It's only after Haru's exhausted the greenhouse's contents that Akira changes the subject. "I hate to put you on the spot like this," she says, "but before we split up, your father mentioned that you're engaged?"

"...Yes." Haru sighs. "Sugimura-san is... adept at dealing with people. I think the Americans call it networking? Father believes his skill and political connections will be of use to the company." It's an extremely diplomatic answer, but it's the one she has to give. She cannot end this arrangement by herself, and her father won't listen - if he'd been willing to listen to a daughter, he might have trained _her_ to fulfill the role he wants to bring in a husband for instead.

"What do you think of him?"

Haru closes her eyes; whatever emotions are breaking through her professional facade are enough to make Akira sigh.

"I see." When Haru risks looking at Akira again, she's brushing a lock of hair out of her face. "Well, hopefully Makoto's convinced your father we're the right people for the job. After talking to you, I'm convinced this is where we need to be."

"You are?"

"You need a friend, don't you?" Before Haru can answer with more than a squeak, Akira bows again. "I have to get going, I'm afraid. Thank you for your time, Haru-san."

As Akira leaves, Haru sits down heavily on a bench. Friends - when was the last time she could truly say she had those?

***

Haru's father is at the office the day the new hires report to the house - and when she opens the door, she's glad for it. Akira's the one in the formal suit, barely repressing a rakish grin from the looks of it.

"Er," she says, blushing furiously.

"Good to see you again, Haru-san. We decided to have a little fun with the interview last week."

"You say that like we don't do that half the time anyway," his companion says. This must be Makoto, and belatedly Haru realises both of their names are frequently given to both boys and girls - how could anyone tell who is who, especially if they deliberately obscure it? "It's good to meet you properly, Haru-san. I hope this isn't an inconvenience?"

"Oh - no, not at all! Please, come in." She's still reeling from the shock, but there's no reason not to give them due hospitality. (Besides, part of her rather enjoys the fact that they pulled one over on her father. He's bound to be upset when he gets home, but he won't back out of a contract once signed, if he believes it's to his benefit, and two permanent staff keeping an eye on his daughter is certainly to his benefit.) She ushers them both inside, and falls back on the protocol that is making tea - it's no full ceremony by any means, but it's something to do with her hands while she figures out how to phrase her first question.

"Forgive me if this is rude," she finally says, once all three of them have a drink in hand, "but I find I'm not... certain how to address you."

"Our given names are fine," Makoto says. "We'll both answer to whatever we need to - we've made it a habit, since we trade clothing so often. Those who aren't in the know will make their judgments based on appearances, and we'll have a much easier time doing our job."

"I see." Haru's not completely certain she does, just yet, but perhaps she will, in time. "I'm also not certain as to just what possessed Father to hire minders for me; as far as cooking and cleaning are concerned, we have more than adequate staff. Even if he hadn't let his intentions slip, they would have been obvious."

Akira glares at his teacup for a while before answering. "Makoto could speculate more about your father's motives, having talked to him longer. But as far as we're concerned, they don't matter. Our job is to keep you safe, and we intend to do just that."

Makoto nods. "On that note, we'd like to hear more about your engagement, if you're willing to discuss it. I'm not sure I trust your father's account of matters as far as I could throw him."

The utter incongruity of that mental image is enough to help put Haru at ease, somehow. "Father arranged the marriage to suit his business and political aspirations. Sugimura-san could certainly do that for him, but he is... not pleasant company, out of the public eye."

"Has he hurt you?"

"Not yet, but to be frank, I believe it's only a matter of time. He's not the sort of man who believes a married woman has any right to autonomy, and he's been physically intimidating more than once already."

Akira scowls, and Haru finds herself quite glad these two aren't her enemies; on him, it's an expression that promises vengeance, not that she knows how they might carry it out.

"We're here to keep you safe, Haru," he says. "From whoever is threatening you."

***

Haru shows them to a suite of rooms, intended to be theirs for as long as they stay in the Okumura family's employ, and excuses herself - to the greenhouse, Akira's certain. After all, this day's probably brought her a lot more upheaval than she expected; she'll need the time to process, and to absorb that some of her troubles may be troubling her no longer.

"The fiance is a problem," Makoto says, as soon as they're alone.

"Just a bit. How do we handle him?"

"Not lethally, I don't think." They have the training to do exactly that, and their ultimate employer certainly wouldn't be upset - and in this case, Akira's not inclined to think the world would be losing much. "If Haru had the purse strings in hand, possibly, but she doesn't."

Makoto has a point, as much as Akira doesn't want to admit it. Haru's father might not take kindly to losing a business investment so terminally, and could then try to keep them away from her, if he worked out they were behind it. And Haru needs them, right now - needs someone to stand up for her until they can teach her to stand up for herself. They shouldn't do anything that would jeopardise their position until it's more firmly cemented.

"Your way, then." Akira shrugs off the formal jacket and tosses it onto a chair. "Should we have Futaba trace him?"

"Absolutely. I'm sure he's not nearly as polished as he's pretending to be for Haru's father. The more dirt we can find, the better." Makoto slips a knuckle duster out of a hidden pocket - one of several they've both had modified into their clothes, especially the dresses - and toys with it thoughtfully. "I wouldn't say no to landing a good punch on his face, if the opportunity arises."

"What, only his face?"

"Easier to reach and get away with than other parts of his anatomy. We should see about converting one of these bedrooms into storage and training."

Akira nods. "God knows we'll need that more than a second bed."

It _is_ the softest damn bed Akira's ever slept on - or done anything else on, for that matter. Still, they have a plan, and they're going to work to keep their new charge safe.

***

Haru doesn't hear the news when it erupts, a week later, so much as infer it. Her father reads the paper over breakfast, and while the fact that he's frowning at whatever he's reading isn't unusual, he doesn't usually scowl this openly. He stopped telling her what he was reading about years ago, so she doesn't ask; when he tosses the paper down and stalks away from the table, she catches a glimpse of a photo, of what looks to be Sugimura-san with a black eye.

Over dinner, her father informs her that the engagement is off. Haru presents the disappointment she knows he wants to see, but inwardly, she's cheering - and she has so many questions for Akira and Makoto.

They refuse to tell her everything. "It's better if you don't know the details," Makoto says. "We agreed to keep you safe, and we've done exactly that."

"He won't be bothering you again," Akira adds, briefly emerging from one of the bedrooms in their suite - which, it seems, they're in the process of clearing out. "Our contacts have made him too much of a political liability for your father to reconsider him, and if he approaches you himself... well, we won't be so kind a second time."

"That was kind?" Haru's finally had an opportunity to read the paper herself, and the array of indiscretions attributed to Sugimura-san was nothing short of staggering.

"He's still alive." Akira smiles, somewhere between bland and dangerous, and disappears back into the second bedroom. Haru's not at all sure what endeared her to these two, but she's in no position to complain. After all, they've freed her from a marriage she wanted no part of but saw no escape from on her own.

She could get used to having people in her corner, even if they do seem rather fond of extreme measures.

"How did you... come into this line of work?"

Makoto sighs. "It was just me and my sister at home. She has a commendable job, but it wasn't quite enough to make ends meet. I mentioned at one of my aikido classes that I was interested in something I could do around school, and got pointed in this direction. As for Akira... well, there aren't many jobs that will take someone with a record, even if that record was falsified. We enjoyed our first assignment together so much we decided to stick with it."

"I see." Not for the first time, Haru notes that neither of them have named their ultimate employer, instead noting that they don't consider themselves beholden to her father. She wonders who taught them everything they know; she wonders how _much_ they know.

She wonders how much they could teach her, but she isn't quite bold enough to ask. Not yet.

***

Akira and Makoto _must_ be sharing a bed; it's the only explanation Haru can think of for their clearing out the second bedroom in their suite. She's not bothered by it, as what they do in their private time is between the two of them, and it's assumed they're keeping their own quarters tidy, preventing a scandal with the rest of the staff. She does raise an eyebrow when they have a punching bag and some training dummies delivered, but she supposes they need to keep in practice somehow.

They insist on accompanying her whenever she has to leave the house for errands or the like - just in case, according to Akira. Haru doesn't question it, as it allays her father's suspicions about her comings and goings - surely she can't be getting up to something inappropriate with two bodyguards on hand - and she rather enjoys their company.

Sugimura-san doesn't approach her - she's not entirely certain whether he can, at present - but he does send two of his friends after her. They try to box her in and one of them pulls a knife, but Akira responds in kind before Haru can do more than squeak. She keeps the knife-wielder busy, Makoto jumps into the fray with the other goon, and when all's said and done, Sugimura-san's friends are unconscious and the outdoor displays the store Haru was trying to leave had up have been utterly decimated.

Makoto straightens his jacket and surveys the damage, looking faintly concerned. "We've really got to stop making a habit of this."

"We should go," Akira says. "Are you all right, Haru?"

All she can do is nod, but that's enough for Akira to take her arm and lead them to the subway station.

For the next several days, whether she's in the greenhouse, working on some task her father finds appropriate, or simply eating or trying to get to sleep, all Haru can think about is that fight. She's never seen something so beautifully choreographed. She's also never felt more helpless in her life than those first few moments, before Akira leapt to her defense; it's not a feeling she's terribly interested in revisiting.

Fortunately, she knows just who to ask about it, now. It requires waiting for a day that her father's out of the house and most of the other staff are preoccupied. She finds her opening on a public holiday - her father is choosing to work through it, but even he isn't yet so heartless as to deny his domestic help a day off. (Okumura Foods factory workers are probably not so lucky, but Haru has to take this one step at a time; if she can't help herself, she _certainly_ can't help any of them.)

The door to Akira and Makoto's suite swings open when Haru goes to knock; she just hopes that light tap is enough that she won't startle them completely. Akira's settled on a couch, reading a book, and there's the sound of a punching bag being thoroughly devastated from what used to be the second bedroom; Makoto must be breaking it in, then.

"Ah - excuse me? Do you have a moment?"

Akira marks the book with an envelope and looks up, smiling. "For you, any time. What's up?"

"I've been thinking, about... about that fight the other day. We'd all be kidding ourselves quite a bit if we assume Sugimura-san's going to stop at one attempt to bully me by proxy, and while you and Makoto probably know better than I do what other threats may be out there, I'm not so naive as to think there are none. Father would, I'm sure, dismiss my concerns or any attempt to do something about them, but I know you two don't have any such reservations."

Haru has to stop for a deep breath; even having made it through that lead-up, even having run this request over and over in her head over the last few days, even knowing it's _highly_ unlikely her friends and protectors will say no, she's unaccountably nervous about actually saying it. "Would... would you be willing to teach me how to fight?"

"I was beginning to think you'd never ask."

"Really?"

Akira laughs, but there's absolutely no malice behind it. "Of course. Whether there comes a time that you don't want to keep us around anymore or not, we're not in the habit of leaving people defenseless. Come on back. I think I've got a throwing axe with your name on it."


	2. Chapter 2

Haru follows Akira into what used to be the suite's second bedroom, but is now solidly repurposed; it looks like they're using about a third of the space as storage. The rest is covered in training mats, with a few dummies lurking in one corner and the punching bag hanging from a stand by the window. Makoto's still by the punching bag, wearing only a chest binder and a pair of sweatpants and taking a liberal drink from a water bottle.

She shouldn't stare. She really shouldn't. And yet, she can't bring herself to look away until Akira returns from the storage area with that throwing axe.

"I'm still not sure about the axe," Makoto says. "After all, part of the point of this kind of self-defense is being able to _conceal_ your weapon."

Akira waves a hand. "Consider how much free time she spends in the greenhouse - it makes perfect sense there. As for other places... we can run it by Inari and the Queen. If Inari can pull those damn swords out of nowhere, he'll have some ideas."

"Fair enough, I suppose. Do you need my help?"

"Not right now, but if we do I'll let you know." Akira turns to Haru and smiles. "Ready to get started?"

"I..." Haru tears her eyes away from Makoto (again) and manages to nod. "Yes. Yes, I am."

Haru learns a lot very quickly. Her instinct to wear gardening clothes for this was spot-on, as Akira's putting her through quite a workout; she wouldn't have expected just throwing things to take this much effort. But it's satisfying, in a way that only working in the greenhouse has ever come close to matching. If the lessons are this much fun, she can't help thinking an actual fight would only be better.

Perhaps that's not terribly ladylike of her, but she's finding she doesn't care, so much.

Throwing an axe, even one specifically designed to _be_ thrown, is a lot harder than she thought it would be. She puts at least three holes in Akira and Makoto's storage cabinets before she actually manages to hit the target Akira set up for her; fortunately, they both laugh it off, on the grounds that anything that can't take a few hits is in their bedroom.

"Still, maybe we should have started you off with knives and worked up from there," Akira says, while adjusting Haru's stance.

Makoto sighs. "Or maybe we should have started her off with hand-to-hand, like I suggested the other day."

"We don't have a practice axe here, just the sharp one. You might be able to dodge, but we're still not starting hand-to-hand until we get a chance to get a practice blade. Besides, if she can stop someone before they get to her, so much the better, right?"

They call it a day after Haru finally manages to land the axe in the center of the target. She's elated - and _exhausted_ \- and doesn't at all mind when Akira steers her out to the couch in their living room and Makoto presses a bottle of water into her hand. There's still an hour or two before her father will be home, so she has plenty of time to catch her breath before she needs to look presentable.

Unfortunately, that thought is enough to remind Haru of something she'd nearly forgotten and settle a curl of dread in the pit of her stomach. "Oh, no. There's a company dinner tomorrow, and Father's expecting me to be there. I can't show up carrying myself like I just tried to take on a gang alone."

"Got you covered," Akira says. "Finish your water first, or Makoto's going to have words for us both."

She does, and then Akira directs her into their bedroom, has her lie down on the bed, and proceeds to give her the best massage of her life. By the time Akira stops, Haru feels more refreshed than she has in weeks - certainly not like she just spent the afternoon undertaking strenuous exercise.

"Better?"

"Much, thank you. Where did you _learn_ that?"

"Makoto's composition teacher, believe it or not. We helped her deal with some... unsavory individuals so she could quit the job she needed that skill set for, but she thought we could get some use out of it."

"I see." Haru wonders, briefly, if those 'unsavory individuals' are dead or merely disgraced; she wouldn't put either outcome past her friends, really.

"You should go get cleaned up, before your father gets home. Do you want one of us available for that dinner tomorrow?"

"...Yes, please, if you can spare the time. I have no illusions that Father wants me there for anything other than shopping me out to a suitable husband before my Coming of Age Day comes around."

Akira nods. "We'll make time for it, then."

Haru returns to her own bedroom, cheered by that thought - and then spends the entire shower dwelling on the feel of Akira's hands on her and the vision of Makoto at the punching bag, in turns.

***

The company dinner is nothing short of excruciating.

Haru's father announces the addition of new vegetables to the Okumura Foods arsenal - vegetables Haru herself helped to cultivate, but of course receives no credit for. He barely acknowledges her presence, except to say that he's seeking another marriage partner for her; she doesn't have the background to understand the few business dealings that are discussed during the meal; and worst of all, protocol dictates that Akira and Makoto aren't even in her line of sight for most of the event.

Perhaps, a traitorous part of her mind suggests, the real threat to her well-being is her own father. It's a thought Haru would have never allowed herself to entertain before Akira and Makoto swept into her life, but the more she ponders it, over meal portions that aren't quite enough to fill her but 'appropriate for a young woman watching her weight,' the less she can deny it. She may be free of one odious fiance, but he turned right around to find her another; whether she approved of the choice didn't matter before, so she doesn't expect her input to matter now.

So long as her father considers himself the arbiter of her worth, Haru will not be free to live her own life.

But at the same time, he's her _father_. She remembers, if dimly, a time when he seemed to genuinely care for her, before the double blow of losing her mother (in childbirth, along with the baby) and grandfather (though he always seemed to resent her grandfather, probably because he cared more about making people happy than making money). Certainly his exploitative business practices and aggressive reactions to competition need to be addressed and stopped, but can she truly bring herself to say he deserves the same treatment as Sugimura did?

She needs to break free of her father's shackles. She's sure all she'd have to do is ask, and Akira and Makoto would concoct some scheme or other and the matter would be neatly handled. But she doesn't wish him dead, either, and she's not sure what the limit on what she does wish for him is.

Fortunately, other than the odd speculative look cast in her direction, the other board members leave Haru alone. As much as she'd like some company, she's not sure it's worth the risk of conversation, not when her thoughts are such a mess. Besides, if any of them are only looking at her as a marriageable prospect, she _really_ doesn't want to hear about it right now.

When they get home, she claims a headache to get out of her father's company - as tangled as her mind is at the moment, it's not even that far from the truth - retreats to her bedroom, and stares at the ceiling for an hour. She only stops staring when a soft knock at her door startles her out of it.

"Who is it?"

"May I come in?" Makoto says, and Haru relaxes marginally.

"Yes, of course." She'd been half hoping one of them would come by, really; it's better than a restless night and the off chance they could make time to talk tomorrow.

Makoto comes in, already dressed for bed, and closes the door behind her. "Are all of your father's company dinners like that?"

"I couldn't say. This is only the second one he's seen fit to bring me to, and the first was when he announced my engagement. I... wouldn't be surprised if they normally strike that sort of tone, though."

"I see." For lack of any other seating in the room, Makoto perches on the foot of Haru's bed; it's probably improper, but Haru can't really say that she minds. "It's really unfair that he didn't even acknowledge the part you played with those vegetables."

"It is." Haru sighs. "I... I'm growing tired of being a spectator in my own life. I know you and Akira said it was safer if I didn't know all the details, but I had more actual _fun_ yesterday than I have in years. And even if talking to me convinced Akira you should take the job here, I highly doubt I was what drew you to apply in the first place. I'd like enough information to choose something for myself for once, if you're able to give it."

Makoto's silent for long enough to make Haru nervous; just when she's sure she's pushed too far and the only friends she's had in far too long will desert her, Makoto nods. "We've owed you an explanation for a while, and you're right. It wasn't you that brought us here. Our employer is... concerned about your father, but learning you were caught in the crossfire altered our plans significantly. We didn't know how entangled you were in his business practices or political aspirations, and once we could see how trapped you were, we knew we had to help you get out. Or help you get yourself out, whichever it turns out to be."

"What sort of concerns? What..." Haru falters, but forces herself to ask the question anyway. "What do you intend to do to him?"

"Keep him out of the political sphere, at minimum. There are enough greedy bastards in the Diet as it is, and if we can't strike at Representative Shido directly, the least we can do is undermine his support system as much as possible. We've taken a lot of options off the table after meeting you, at least until we knew what you thought of everything."

"I don't want him dead. His employees deserve far better than he gives them, and I have absolutely no interest in being a pawn to further his ends, but... he was a good man once. I'd like to think he can still be reminded of that."

"Nothing lethal or permanently humiliating, then," Makoto says. "Duly noted. We can work around that. We'd already settled on withholding our move until you can take care of yourself, no matter what."

"...I appreciate it." Once again, Haru wonders just who they work for, but there can't be that many options, in the end. At least whatever organisation it is that's backing their mayhem is somewhat benevolent, if they can hold off on wholesale destruction for her sake. "Are you two planning to recruit me to this mysterious job of yours?"

"We weren't at first. For all we knew, you had a job lined up whenever your father deemed it fit to hand over to you."

A snort escapes Haru before she can restrain it, and it bubbles over into relieved laughter now that she's actually addressed some of what's been bothering her. Makoto, much to her delight, joins in.

"I'm afraid not," Haru says, once she manages to catch her breath again. "My only value to Father extends as far as my marriage prospects. If I end up with any sort of share in the company, it'll be completely by accident."

"Well, we know that _now_ ," Makoto says, still smiling. "To that end, we're only pulling you that far in if you decide you want to be. We don't plan to let up on the defense lessons unless you completely lose interest, but anything beyond that is up to you."

"...Thank you. I couldn't tell you when the last time someone gave me a choice was."

"That's why we waited for you to come to us. We both know what it's like to feel powerless, and the best way out of that feeling is to take some power for yourself."

Haru can see that, really - and even though she's already asked some of the toughest questions, the next one almost sticks in her throat. "How long do you intend to stay?"

"As long as you want us to."

Haru's not sure if she meant that question to cover just tonight or the general scope of Akira and Makoto's employment, but she's not sure it matters. When she reaches for Makoto's hand, Makoto takes it, and settles in further up the bed, properly next to her.

It's the best night's sleep Haru's had in months.


	3. Chapter 3

Haru wakes to the morning sunlight in her face and the unfamiliar - yet utterly comfortable - sensation of warmth beside her. Makoto's still asleep, one arm slung across Haru's stomach.

She's never shared a bed with someone else before. Her parents didn't allow it, when she was too small to care about whether it was proper to ask for comfort, and the rest of the staff wouldn't dare breach protocol in such a way. Sugimura, thank whatever gods might be listening, never tried to cash in on his marital 'rights' while the engagement was still on, and even if he had, Haru suspects he wouldn't have lingered after the deed was done.

She could get used to this, she thinks, with the same part of her mind that thought _my father is a threat to my well-being_.

It's not long before Makoto stirs, treating Haru to a sleepy smile that makes her heart skip a beat. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

"I did, thank you. But - Akira won't be upset? That you stayed." It's a flustered mess of a question, but one Haru feels like she has to ask.

"If Akira were likely to be upset, I wouldn't have stayed. Neither of us has much of a jealous streak - that's always been my sister's problem more than mine. Besides, you seemed to need the company."

"I... rather think I did, yes."

"Then I don't regret it." Makoto's phone buzzes - Haru hadn't realised she'd brought it in with her - and she pauses to check the alert. "Akira says you should come shopping with us today, if you're free. We might be able to get you a practice axe and start working hand-to-hand stuff into your lessons."

"I don't believe I have any pressing engagements today," Haru says, leaving it at that while she checks her own phone to confirm it. "No, I'm not expected anywhere else. We should be home before dinner, but if we head out soon I don't see that being a problem."

Even dinner is simply a matter of covering for herself, in case her father comes home early. Not being available to have dinner with him would raise questions she doesn't want to have to answer.

Makoto smiles. "Then I'll head downstairs and let Akira know."

***

Their destination is a positively sketchy-looking airsoft shop, tucked down a back alley in Shibuya. Akira strides in like she owns the place; Makoto just shrugs helplessly, and waits for Haru to follow along. When she does work up the nerve to step inside, the owner barely glances up from the magazine he's reading; Haru can't quite tell if he looks more annoyed or amused.

"Another one?"

"Not officially," Akira says, "but I'd be lying if I said I didn't have my hopes up. She does need some self-defense gear, either way. We'll let you know when we're ready, Iwai-san."

Iwai-san grunts and goes back to his magazine, Makoto and Akira head to two different corners of the shop, and Haru is left with very little idea of where to start. The shop's specialty seems to be model guns, though she really can't fathom why; it seems to stock an impressive assortment of other weaponry, all of which, on closer inspection, is completely fake. She supposes it stands to reason, but can't help wondering where Akira and Makoto get their _real_ weaponry from.

It's not too long, thankfully, before a display of model throwing axes catches her eye. She doesn't pick any of them up, at least to start with; she's not sure she'd know what to look for if she did. The amount of detail put into each of them is nothing short of exquisite, including inlay effects that must be incredibly difficult to pull off when working with foam and plastic.

"See something you like?"

Haru's voice deserts her. She'd been so preoccupied that she missed Akira's approach entirely, but suddenly Akira's right behind her, hand on her waist in an invasion of her personal space that's electrifying where Sugimura's invasions were repulsive. She wants to think it's simply part of enjoying someone else's company for a change, but part of her isn't sure if that's it.

(The part of her that was so satisfied with this morning's arrangement doesn't _want_ that to be it.)

"...Yes," she finally manages. "I think I do. I'm not sure how to tell if it's of any quality, though."

"Everything here's top of the line, but I can't blame you for wondering. The best part, in my opinion, is that they're all weighted and balanced similarly to the real thing, so you don't have to worry about practicing with something that's significantly lighter."

With that in mind, Haru finally, gingerly picks up the model axe that had had the full of her attention until Akira stole it. The inlay up the handle is vines and flowers - exactly the kind of personal touch that suits her - and sure enough, it feels like the genuine axe they'd had her lobbing at a target the other day, perhaps a bit heavier.

"I see what you mean." She desperately wants to give it a test swing then and there, but the shop would be cramped even without someone standing directly behind her, and she'd rather not break anything.

"That's your favorite? Good. We can leave with this today and you'll have the real thing this time next week."

Before Haru can do more than squeak, Akira plucks the model axe from her hands and heads for the counter.

Akira and Makoto insist on paying for the equipment, so Haru in turn insists on taking them to lunch - anywhere in town but a Big Bang Burger. Makoto suggests a monjayaki place a short subway ride away from Haru's house, the better not to wander all over Tokyo lugging a bag of model weaponry.

"Besides," Makoto says, "it's noisy enough there that we can answer some questions, if you'd like." Haru very much would like, so she happily agrees.

If she's surprised when part of the cover stems from the fact that you cook monjayaki at the table yourself, she doesn't mention it.

"How many of you are there?" she says, as she watches the batter brown, trying to figure out whether it's ready. "Around our age, I mean."

"Half a dozen or so, that we've met," Makoto says. "Incidentally, our information broker wants a look at your phone, to make sure it's up to security standards. The other teams are still in high school, so they can't do this kind of long-term work, but we all keep an eye on each other."

"They're only in high school?"

Akira grins. "Our employer claims to have a bad habit of taking in strays. Besides, it pays well and gives us a chance to stand up for ourselves. What's not to like?"

Put like that, Haru finds she can't really argue.

***

Akira absconds with Haru's phone that afternoon, the better to get that security sweep out of the way as quickly as possible. She can't give a firm deadline on its return, as that depends entirely on whether this mysterious information broker finds anything, but Haru doesn't mind. She's unlikely to have last-minute appointments any time soon, and she's an early riser by habit.

Her father is home for dinner, but doesn't ask her about her day. He never does. He used to, once, and Haru misses those days desperately, but all she can see now is how he wants to stifle her in order for his own goals to be fulfilled.

Ever since working up the courage to ask for those first lessons, thinking about what her father has become leaves Haru with the overwhelming urge to hit something. To her intense relief, Makoto proposes a hand-to-hand combat lesson the next morning. Haru's graceless in her blocks, at first, but it's a perfect distraction from everything that's frustrating her.

Well, almost everything. Makoto robs Haru of her composure as quickly as Akira does; simply pausing to help Haru up after knocking her to the ground is enough to send a jolt through her. She's not sure, anymore, which one of them makes her heart race faster.

(She's not sure why the answer can't be both of them.)

Finally, when she can execute a block to Makoto's standards, they return to the suite's main room. Akira's already lounging on the couch, looking at something on what turns out to be Haru's phone. She wants to be upset about that, but can't quite manage it; it's not as though her social life really extends beyond this room anyway, with the engagement broken and no new one in its place so far.

"You're all clear," Akira says, handing Haru her phone after Makoto presses a water bottle into her other hand. "And you got an email while you were in there. Who's Takakura?"

Haru blinks. "He's... a board member at Father's company. I think he started at the company before my grandfather died, but I'm not sure."

"Well, he emailed you. Might be worth seeing what he has to say."

"If he's assuming an engagement I might have to punch him," Makoto mutters; Haru, bolstered by her friend's anger on her behalf, pulls up her email app to have a look.

She nearly drops her phone.

"Haru?" Makoto says, sounding concerned. "Are you okay?"

"I... don't think you have to punch anyone." Haru reads the message again, then a third time, just to make sure. "He asked for a meeting with me. About the company."


	4. Chapter 4

Haru comes back to their suite after dinner, and asks to stay the night with them both. From the sound of things, she's still trying to get her head around that email, and wouldn't have had a chance to talk about it with her father, let alone any desire to; if they can offer her a little comfort until she's ready to talk, Akira's certainly not going to tell her no.

"By all means, get some rest," Makoto says. "We'll help you figure out what comes next in the morning."

And so Haru ends up dozing on their bed, sandwiched comfortably between them, and Akira's left to wonder how the hell they got so lucky.

Makoto had seemed to be a stroke of luck enough, when Akira first got to Tokyo and went looking for a job, _any_ job, that would take someone with a criminal record. Akira doesn't think Makoto understands the sensation of being itchy in your own skin, of feeling completely off just based on what you're wearing, but Makoto's always been more than happy to play along. Makoto seems to like being taken more seriously in a smart suit (while claiming to find it intensely frustrating in the same breath), and on the bad days, Akira will trade being underestimated for being able to breathe in a heartbeat.

One person who didn't mind was already a miracle, but then this job came along, and Haru hasn't questioned either of them about the clothes-swapping business at all, since the first day. Akira doesn't think it's because it bothers her - if anything, she seems to find other people's reactions as funny as they do, now that she knows. And she's certainly done enough staring at both of them, drag or no drag.

She looks so peaceful, curled up between them. Akira doesn't know if that's normal for Haru, but she damn well deserves it to be.

"Can we keep her?"

"Only if she wants us to," Makoto says. "Anything else wouldn't be fair, to her or to us."

Akira sighs. "Especially to her." It's past time Haru had a say in how her own life turns out, that much is certain.

***

After sleeping on it, Haru sets an appointment with Takakura-san for the weekend. It can't hurt to see what he has to say, after all, and no one's requiring her to report it back to anyone else. If he's contacting her without her father's knowledge, there must be a reason for it.

She just wishes she had some idea of what that reason _was_. It's difficult to predict what the right response will be when she doesn't know what questions he might have.

On Akira's recommendation, they meet in a nondescript cafe in Yongen-Jaya; it turns out to have superb coffee. Haru also thinks she spies a tiny camera hidden behind the selection of coffee beans, but thinks nothing further of it. If Akira thinks this place is safe, it's likely his information-broker friend behind the camera, and another way of looking out for her when he can't come in as well.

She's been waiting in a booth with a good view of the door for what feels like an eternity when Takakura-san comes in, spots her, and smiles; he joins her after ordering his own cup of coffee. "Good afternoon, Haru-chan. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me."

"Thank you for asking for me in particular," Haru replies. "I must admit, though, I'm not sure why you did."

"I'll cut to the chase, then. I think we both know your father is not the leader Okumura Foods needs at the present time."

Haru blinks, suddenly very glad she'd set her cup down. "I - I beg your pardon?"

"I joined the company shortly before your grandfather's death," Takakura-san says. "I was a regular at his cafe, and he encouraged me to help him build that same sense of community on a wider scale. Your father, however... I believe he meant well, once, but he's long since lost sight of what's right in front of him. His ambitions beyond the company's scope are ruining its reputation, and sooner or later, the public will notice. He's wasting his employees, he's wasting his goodwill, and above all, he is wasting you."

"I don't know if I'd be capable of facing the challenges of the company." Haru's thought about it before; being the only child of her family was reason enough to consider it. "At the same time, though, I might have a better idea, if he'd taught me more."

"Not only that. Everyone on the board with any sense knows all the new proprietary vegetables go through you first. You nurture them, you refine them - one or two of my colleagues are convinced you're working some kind of magic. That your father wouldn't even acknowledge your work when he brought you to a company dinner was the last straw."

"What do you intend to do?"

Takakura-san sips his coffee before answering. "How would you like to take part in a shareholder revolt?"

Of all the things Haru thought might have come up at this meeting, that was _not_ one of them. It's a few minutes before she can properly gather her racing thoughts; fortunately, she has her coffee to cover the silence, at least for a while.

"I would certainly support you in that endeavor," she finally says. "Father has not had anyone's best interests but his own in his mind for quite some time now. However, I think I'd need to be a shareholder in order to truly help you with a shareholder revolt, wouldn't I?"

"He didn't even tell you that much?" Takakura-san sighs. "I spoke to your grandfather about the company's future on a few occasions. He knew your father resented him for looking after others at the occasional expense of his family's welfare, and said he was planning for the chance your father would lose himself to his ambitions. Some of the shares your father claims as his own were left to _you_ , Haru-chan - enough to keep your father from truly holding the majority of the company."

This time, Haru does drop her cup.

After a flurry of apologies to the shop owner, who waves it off as he clears up the mess, Haru has to pause again. She hasn't been happy with her father in quite some time - since she first met Sugimura, if she's being honest with herself - but a bud of pure, incandescent rage is taking root in her heart. This whole time, she's actually had the means to learn more about the company, to take the first steps toward managing her own affairs, to push back against her father, and what did he do? Nothing. He didn't even tell her, and it's beyond apparent he withheld that knowledge deliberately.

She was beneath his notice from the start. She can't even get him to acknowledge the real work she puts into helping the company prosper.

 _Freedom for you must stem from betrayal._ The thought comes to Haru unbidden, and she can't quite place where it came from. It almost sounds like a quote from a book, but she can't connect it to anything - except, perhaps, the louder and louder voice in her own mind encouraging her to stand up for herself.

She sits up straighter in the booth seat, folding her hands on the table. "I'm in."

***

For the most part, the meeting is a blur after that, but Haru remembers the basic plan. The mutiny's being enacted on Friday, in the hopes of avoiding a major stock fallout by taking the weekend to solidify what comes next. Neither of them can decide whether it'd be helpful for Haru to show up in person or not, but Takakura-san assures her she doesn't need to be there if she doesn't want to.

She's terrified. She's deeply, viciously pleased. She half wants to delay the fallout until the weekend and half wants to see the look on her father's face when she shows up to the meeting. She feels like she can't quite stop shaking, and she's not sure if that's the coffee or adrenaline.

Akira's waiting for her down the block, in front of an older-looking movie theater, watching something on his phone; he looks up when she approaches, smiling. "How'd it go?"

"Well, I think. We'll know for sure next week."

"I suppose we will." That casual statement is enough to confirm Haru's suspicions about the hidden camera, but she can hardly begrudge Akira his curiosity. "We don't have to be back until dinner. What do you want to do now?"

Haru hadn't really thought past the meeting; she's glad Akira did, and equally glad he's leaving the choice up to her. At the same time, he's left things awfully open-ended. (She wants to kiss Akira and not stop. She wants to do the same to Makoto, when they get home. She wants to find out just what it is she's been missing, on her own terms, with the help of the two people she already trusts more than anyone else in the world.)

"We could always take in a movie," she says. "What's playing here?"

Akira shrugs, slinging an arm around her shoulders (Haru shivers, relishing the sudden contact). "Some horror movie. If that's not to your tastes, we could try Shibuya."

Haru examines the poster. "Oh, this is a classic! It's one of my favorites - I hadn't realised anyone would be screening it these days. I'd love to watch it with you."

She ends up watching Akira more than the movie, once it becomes apparent he _hasn't_ seen it before. He's completely taken in by the story; she doesn't think she's ever seen his guard down to this extent before. Gods, but she wants to kiss him even more, now.

As the credits roll and people start clearing out of the theater, she does.

Akira goes briefly still, but before Haru has time to wonder if she made a mistake, he kisses her back. If the casual touches Akira's become so fond of were electrifying, kissing him is something else entirely; she's not at all sure how to quantify it, other than as something she wants more of. Between the rush of pleasant sensation and her deep satisfaction over taking her first kiss for herself, before someone else could steal it from her, it's a wonder she doesn't forget to breathe.

Akira's the one to finally pull back, as the movie's credits reach their end and the theater's lights come up the rest of the way. He doesn't say anything, but he's grinning, and his cheeks are flushed; Haru's sure she's in a similar state.

At some point while they were kissing, they ended up holding hands over the armrest between them, and that's what captures Haru's attention as she gathers her thoughts. "Makoto told me some of why you applied for Father's job posting," she finally says, "and I know that if everything goes well next week, it should alleviate some of your concerns. But once that's happened... please don't leave."

Simply put, she can't bear the thought of trying to resume her life without Akira and Makoto right there. Even if the revolt takes away most of her father's power over her, at worst he'll be in a terrible mood for weeks to come, and at best... well, she's come to rely on having enjoyable company her own age in the house. Surely that's not such a bad thing.

"We won't," Akira says. "I'm afraid you're stuck with us until you decide otherwise."


	5. Chapter 5

"Are you staying out of trouble?"

"I'm on a long-term assignment, Sis."

"That's not what I asked, and you know it."

Makoto sighs. This is always the trickiest part of meeting up with Sae for lunch; she knows her sister worries, knows she wants her to be safe, knows she's especially concerned about the potential legal complications if Makoto gets caught in something her employer can't get her out of, but the fact remains that the risk won't go away just because Sae wills it.

"You're highly unlikely to see me in court any time soon." It's even true, for once. With Haru taking nastier means of dealing with her father off the table, they're not _planning_ on causing trouble. Granted, that may not stop trouble from finding them, but there's only so much she can plan for.

Sae sits back in her chair, apparently mollified. "Good. How's your boyfriend?"

"Akira's not my boyfriend, Sis."

"Did you break up?"

"No, we're still together. But Akira's not my boyfriend." They've had this conversation a lot, too; it doesn't help that even Akira hasn't found the right word yet. Makoto just knows Akira's uncomfortable with being called a boy or a girl, and Sae doesn't get it. "Akira's doing well. I think this has been a good assignment for both of us - all three, including Haru. How have you been?"

"Busy, as usual. That extortion ring in Shibuya's still giving us hell, but I think I might have finally unearthed a good lead."

"Good. I hope you can make some real progress soon." Makoto has some ideas of her own regarding who's behind that disaster, but it's nothing Sae can use - it's rooted in her employer's speculation and Futaba's hacking, neither of which are exactly admissible in court. A proper lead is promising; it'll mean less trouble for everyone, if it results in an arrest, and hopefully better job security for Sae.

"Me too. You don't know how glad I am you didn't get caught up in that kind of racket, Makoto." Sae pauses, toying with what's left of her beef bowl with her chopsticks. "You do know you can come home any time, right?"

And there's the third traditional part of their lunch conversations. "I know, Sis. But please trust me to know what I can handle."

This isn't a job Makoto ever expected to be doing - it's certainly a far cry from her childhood aspirations of following her father into the police force. But she's doing good work, and she's happy. Most days she's pretty sure that's the only reason Sae hasn't insisted she quit more forcefully.

"All right. I should get going - I'll take care of the bill on my way out. Be careful, Makoto."

"You too, Sis."

Once Sae's gone, Makoto sighs, finishes her own meal, and checks her phone. Akira and Haru are off dealing with that business meeting, so she's in no rush to go back to the house; in fact, if she can fit it in, this would be a good time to do some groundwork for a surprise she's had in mind for Haru for a while now.

She has a handful of text messages. Iwai-san says their new weapons, including Haru's axe, are ready to be picked up whenever; she can do that on the way home. Yusuke confirmed he'll have time to meet up with them after school this coming week, so he can talk to Haru about concealing larger weapons (one of a very few things Makoto and Akira can't really cover themselves). Akira's reporter friend, matching them scoop for scoop on Representative Shido's dealings in the hopes she'll find out where her girlfriend disappeared to, claims to have an update on some aspect of that mess. Futaba's sent her a link to a video from the camera feed in her stepfather's coffee shop, probably so she can stay updated on the meeting from a distance.

It's the makings of a busy afternoon, and Makoto's glad for it. As she finally heads back to Haru's house from the last of her errands, her phone buzzes - a text from Akira.

_Good news. She wants us to stay._

Makoto smiles. Akira isn't the only one who's been hoping that would be the case.

She beats them home, which gives her plenty of time to put everything away and run some ideas by the household's gardener. Luckily, he thinks the greenhouse has been in dire need of expansion for a while, and that Haru more than deserves her own space to work; that should make selling the plan to her father more feasible, so they'll have the resources to do the thing properly. With that done, she heads back inside to check up on the recording of Haru's meeting.

The video's just coming to an end when Haru and Akira come into the suite, holding hands. "We're home," Akira says.

"Welcome back." Makoto closes the video window and puts her phone away. "Did you two have a good afternoon?"

"I'd say we did, yeah. I'll be right back." Akira pulls away from Haru and disappears into the training room, leaving Makoto and Haru alone.

"What was that about?"

Haru looks at the floor, blushing furiously - and yet, Makoto's pretty sure there's a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. "I might have asked him for a chance to talk to you alone. I'm sure you've heard about my meeting with Takakura-san by now?"

"I have."

"Even before that, it was becoming apparent that if I don't start taking what I want for myself, I'll never get it. Without you and Akira, I don't think I'd _know_ what I want, never mind have the courage to ask for it. I don't have all the pieces, but I have some, and I know I can figure out the rest now, and I can't thank either of you enough."

"You're welcome." It's nothing they wouldn't have done for anyone else - nothing they haven't already done for each other, really. "What is it that you know you want?"

Instead of answering, Haru approaches the couch, and leans over and kisses Makoto before she can get up. Thankfully, Makoto's quicker to respond than the first time Akira kissed her, raising one hand to play with Haru's hair as she returns the kiss. It's several minutes before either of them pulls back, and even then, Haru's still leaning forward, bracing herself against the back of the couch with her arms just brushing Makoto's shoulders.

"I want you to stay," she says. "Both of you. I want to help where I can, even if I don't know where that is yet. But... no matter what, I know I want you both with me."

Makoto grins. "Well, I don't think that's going to be a hardship."

***

Haru feels like a coiled spring all week. She completely understands the reasoning behind putting the revolt off until right before the weekend, but she almost wishes there were a good way to do it sooner, just to get this terrible feeling of tension out of the air. If her father actually paid any attention to her when he wasn't trying to marry her off, she's sure he would know something was wrong.

Perhaps it's just as well that he doesn't notice, all things considered. He _does_ start construction in their very own backyard, on an expansion to the greenhouse, which utterly stuns Haru until the gardener tells her it was Makoto's idea, carefully couched so that her father wouldn't realise it would be Haru's sole domain. She's still stunned after that, but it's that her friends went to that much trouble just to give her more room for her hobby.

When she asks about it at their next training session, Makoto shrugs. "You deserve a space that's yours, to do what you want in. Besides, if everyone else at the company takes your work on the vegetables seriously, you might well find you need the space soon."

After a while, the training dissolves into making out, and Haru resolves to get them both really, really good presents, just as soon as she can figure out what they'd like.

The genuine axe to match the model she'd picked out at the shop is here now; with the practice she's already had, it doesn't take Haru long at all to get the hang of throwing this one instead. One of Akira and Makoto's friends comes over to show her how to conceal it on her person, and somehow, it's in the spectacle of Yusuke pulling a _katana_ out of seemingly nowhere that she realises why he looks vaguely familiar.

"The art exhibit!" she blurts out. "The one in the underground mall - Father had me go with him so he could talk to some business contacts. You were there."

Yusuke nods. "I had three paintings in it, though... none of them bore my name at the time. Suffice it to say I am intimately familiar with the experience of living with someone who does not have your best interests at heart, and the matter has since been settled."

Even though they just met, Haru can hear the unspoken offer to talk, and she appreciates it more than she knows how to say; instead of trying, she carries on with the reason he's here, though it does take a minute to get Yusuke to stop admiring the axe handle's inlay and actually show her how to carry it properly. It's an even harder art to master than she expected it to be, and she didn't think this would be nearly as seamless as Akira and Makoto's much smaller weapons of choice. By the time Yusuke has to leave, they've only sort of managed to make it work.

"I'll ask the others if they have any ideas," Yusuke says. "I suspect there's a middle ground that we're both overlooking, but there's no sense in giving up halfway."

"True." It's been a while since Sugimura had any of his friends try to bother her, but Haru doubts he's given up that easily; the last thing she wants is to be caught unarmed a second time. "Would you like to come back and see the greenhouse when more flowers are blooming?"

Yusuke smiles. "I'd like that very much."

Thursday evening finds Haru too anxious to eat much at dinner; thankfully, since her father believes she needs to be more careful about her weight, he doesn't comment. If anything, he looks vaguely approving of her lack of appetite, which only serves to turn Haru's stomach more. When she's sat at the table long enough to make herself eat about half of what she was served - and for her father to finish his own meal - she excuses herself to pace in her bedroom.

The knock at her door startles her so badly she almost falls over. "I - who is it?"

"It's just me," Akira says. "Can I come in?"

"Of course."

It feels like at least half the tension Haru's been feeling all day evaporates when Akira comes in, closing the door behind her. "I thought you could use some company," she says. "And maybe a back rub."

Haru nods. "You're not wrong about either."

"Go ahead and lie down, then. No point in you staying this worked up all night."

The moment Akira's hands touch her shoulders, Haru feels like she can breathe properly again. Everything comes pouring out - how she's still not sure if she should go to the board meeting tomorrow or not, how she's worried about how her father's going to react to being overthrown, how she's a little bit terrified he'll respond by stepping up the fiance hunt. Admittedly, that last one is probably a bit of a stretch, but she still can't rule it out, and this is meant to be her life now.

"You don't have to decide tonight," Akira says, working a knot out from between Haru's shoulders. "You're awake early enough that you'll have plenty of time to get there before the meeting, and if you don't want to, that's fine too. There's pros and cons to both. And no matter what happens afterward, we'll still be here. We promised, remember?"

"You have a good point. Two of them, in fact. Thank you." Haru almost loses her train of thought as Akira finishes up on the knot and moves her hands lower. "I... I want to get you both something. To show my appreciation. I have an idea for you, but I'm not sure what Makoto would like."

"Hmm. You can't go wrong with books, but I think you're after a more personal touch than that, from the sound of it. There is one thing we usually don't have the resources to find - you remember that panda mascot thing? Used to be a kids' cartoon?"

"Buchimaru-kun?"

"That's the one," Akira says. "Makoto goes absolutely nuts for that stuff, but since the merchandise line's been discontinued, it's either not around or out of our price range. I bet Makoto would love it if you managed to dig something up. So what are you getting for me?"

"That would be telling. I'll have Makoto help with your present." Haru does need a little help, in the form of Akira's measurements; she's noticed how much Akira seems to like dressing up, and intends to get her something for formal occasions. (Or if she just feels like wearing a fancy gown; it's not as though Haru would object, and she doubts Makoto would either.)

"All right, all right. Can't blame me for trying, though, can you?"

Before Haru can answer, Akira adjusts her position so that she's straddling Haru's thighs, and the remaining tension in her body transmutes into electricity. She gasps, suddenly very aware of how intimate this whole evening has been - not that she minds in the slightest.

"Too much?" Akira says, sounding worried.

"No." Haru cranes her neck around enough to just barely make eye contact. "Not enough."

"All right then." Akira's voice is low and smoky, and for the first time, her hands dip under Haru's shirt to trace over her skin directly. "If it's more the lady wants, then more the lady shall have - but you stop me if something's too much, all right? The last thing I want to do is hurt you."

Haru manages to nod. "You won't hurt me. I know you won't."

"This'll be easier if you turn over, I think." Akira shifts so Haru can do so, and Haru almost protests the lack of contact, but Akira does have a point. If nothing else, she's not sure if she trusts her voice to do the job of saying whether something's too much after all.

She rolls over, sitting up long enough to pull her shirt off in the process - no sense in only doing this halfway. Her bra sags forward, once it's free of the confines of her shirt, and she can't keep from laughing. "When did you find the time to unhook it? I certainly didn't do that."

Akira only grins in response, leaning in to kiss Haru.

Akira's nothing but gentle, even when Haru half wishes she wouldn't be - but if she decides to go to the board meeting tomorrow, it won't do to show up with any obvious signs of what her father would take as indiscretion (she knows better now, but the appearance would still matter). There will be time enough to change the pace later. Akira pauses and makes eye contact every time she moves to step things up; somehow, Haru manages to at least nod every time, even as the sensation threatens to overwhelm her completely.

Even with that, the escalation feels gradual right up until Haru does find herself (very, very pleasantly) overwhelmed, by which point Akira's settled between her legs, mouth working on her clit with an almost single-minded determination.

She wonders, vaguely, as she floats down from that moment of utter bliss, if this counts as a loss of virginity. Just about everything Haru's encountered suggests a much more... direct manner of contact being the only one that matters, but this is the first time anyone else has been with her for that - the first time she asked someone else to keep touching her. Surely that must count for something, if she wants it to. Besides, if she decides it _does_ count, it's one less thing her father can hold over her.

"You good?" Akira's shifted positions again, stretching out on the bed beside her.

Haru smiles. "Yes, very. What about you? Are you all right?"

Akira nods, almost too quickly. "I'm fine," she says, but she sounds just slightly too tense for Haru to fully believe it.

"I didn't ask too much of you, did I?"

"No, that's... that was perfectly all right. That was about you. I can't - tonight's not a good night for it to be about me."

It's then that Haru sees what she didn't before - last week, when she stayed in Akira and Makoto's suite with them, Akira had simply worn a pair of boxers to bed. Tonight, she's chosen a long nightshirt that covers her to about mid-thigh; Haru hadn't thought anything of it when Akira first came in, but in hindsight it seems remarkably obvious.

"All right. It wouldn't be too much for you to stay here tonight, would it?" She badly wants the company, but even more than that she wants Akira to be happy - and if that means Haru spends the night alone, so be it. There will be other nights.

"Staying's fine." Akira smiles, more genuinely this time. "God, what did we do to deserve you?"

"I could ask you the same thing, really."

***

Haru knows the answer when she wakes up. She needs to go to the board meeting, rip off the bandage, and get it out of the way. For all she's still worried about it, the decision leaves her oddly calm through breakfast. Things might be awkward at home after this, but no matter what happens, she'll be all right in the end.

The meeting's scheduled for the very end of the business day, but she and Makoto leave the house just after lunch, to make sure they have plenty of time to get there. Makoto won't be going into the meeting, simply there as backup in case Haru needs it, but she feels much better for having one of her friends at her back, all the same.

When they get to the building, the receptionist smiles at Haru. "Takakura-san is waiting for you in his office. Seventh floor, you can't miss it."

"Thank you." Haru heads for the elevators, with Makoto trailing behind.

Once they're inside an elevator and alone, Makoto frowns. "Are you sure we won't run into your father?"

"I rather doubt it. He likes to have his office as high up as possible - even at home it's on the second floor. Given the way our meeting went, I don't think Takakura-san would have directed me to his office if he thought there was a major risk of giving the game away, either."

"Fair enough. Besides, if your father _did_ see you here, he'd probably assume it had more to do with you being married off than actually plotting against him." Makoto scowls. "He really doesn't know what he could have had if he just hadn't underestimated you, does he?"

"He doesn't, but I hate to think of the kind of person I might be if he'd truly raised me to think like he does." Would it have stuck? Haru doesn't know, and she doesn't particularly want to dwell on it. Things happened the way they did, she's rectifying what she can now, and it brought two wonderful people into her life.

Takakura-san is glad to see Haru, and to meet someone 'looking out for Haru-chan's best interests,' as he puts it. "In fact, I'm rather glad you got here early. If everything goes well today, we were wondering if you'd be willing to take on your cultivation duties in a more official role."

Haru blinks. "You were?"

"Of course we were. It would be a good way for you to ease into the company's workings, if that's where your interests lie, or to learn skills that will serve you well elsewhere. Besides, your work has already brought great value to the company when it was unofficial - think what you could do with official backing."

"That is true. I'm not sure how much I'll be able to do from home, unless Father remains under the impression that expanding the greenhouse was his idea after everything's said and done, but I'd love to help."

Most of the remaining hour passes in a blur of logistics; it seems like the next thing Haru knows, Takakura-san is gathering his things. "It's time. We're using a meeting room with two entrances - I think it would be best if you came in partway through. It'll avoid derailing your father's attention until the point is made."

Haru nods. "I agree." The knot of tension over this whole thing tries to settle in her stomach again; Makoto briefly rests a hand on her shoulder, and it dissipates.

Takakura-san leads them up to the fifteenth floor, and then to the meeting room's second entrance, before departing for the first. He seems confident that Haru will know her cue to enter when she hears it; she just hopes she doesn't manage to miss it entirely. Makoto doesn't let go of her hand while they listen and wait, a silent reassurance that she'll be all right in there.

She has to be. Thankfully, she won't be in there alone.

Sure enough, she does know her cue when she hears it. Her father has a tendency to get loud when he's indignant, and this is no exception - being told he was losing control of his birthright was never going to sit _well_ with him, to be fair, but still.

"A revolt," he says, voice rising with every word. "Really. And how, pray tell, do you plan to enforce that when I am the majority shareholder?"

Haru squeezes Makoto's hand one last time before letting go, opens the door, and steps in. "I think you'll find that you only hold a plurality of the company's shares, Father."

She hopes she remembers the look on her father's face for the rest of her life. He gapes for several seconds, as if trying to wrap his mind around the very idea of her _being_ here without his knowledge, then looks up and down the conference table, clearly expecting someone to tell him this is some sort of joke. When no one does, he sighs, looking for all the world like a child whose favorite toy was just taken from him.

"What are _you_ doing here," he says, not even bothering to phrase it as a question.

"Exercising my rights as a shareholder." Haru feels herself falling into one of the battle stances Makoto's been drilling her on more than she actively takes the position. "This company is not some - some launch pad for you to discard after you wring everything you can from it and grow bored. Neither am I a pawn to fulfill your own ambitions while you ignore my true worth. You are ruining what Grandfather gave us, and I will not sit idly by and allow you to do so any longer."

"Who told you about--" Her father stops before admitting to the existence of Haru's shares himself. "You know your worth to this company, young lady. You know your worth to _me_. How dare you attempt to throw it away over this - this folly?"

"You're the one who always says betrayal is a family trait, Father." The more Haru thinks about that, the more she's certain it's something her father invented for himself. Her grandfather, from what she remembers, was far too kind-hearted to actually stab anyone in the back like that.

"Besides," Takakura-san adds, "if anyone in this room doesn't know Haru-chan's value to the company, it's you. We wouldn't have two-thirds of our proprietary vegetables without her hard work, and yet you have never once acknowledged that. Why is that?"

"She shouldn't be wasting her time on menial labor."

Haru sighs. She knew her father had never liked her interest in gardening, but that he misunderstands it to this extent is... upsetting, if not surprising. Still, they're wearing him down; he's never worn defeat gracefully, but she's seen him backed into a corner before, and with no one in the room on his side he's bound to fold sooner or later.

"The exploitation of those you consider to be beneath your notice ends now," she says. "Factory employees, restaurant staff, _myself_ \- we are all people worthy of dignity and respect, not tools to bend to your whims."

"If you continue on your current path, you won't have a company left before long," Takakura-san says. "Perhaps that suits you. Perhaps you believe you'll be well shot of it before that comes to pass. However, the rest of us are unwilling to overlook the thousands of people you would hurt by driving the company into the ground. We don't want to oust you from the company entirely, but we firmly believe you have no business being at its helm so long as you fail to show consideration for others."

Haru watches her father look up and down the conference table again, for a moment that stretches into an eternity. Then, finally, he wilts.

Truth be told, she doesn't remember many details of the meeting after that. She knows she does insist that her father stop trying to marry her off, and he agrees, despite looking like someone's waving a plate of durian under his nose. Takakura-san and the others are focused on how to present this change in company leadership to the media, but Haru's too lost in the adrenaline rush of success to contribute much.

She doesn't relax from the fighting stance she fell into until after her father leaves the meeting room, and then she nearly collapses; Takakura-san's at her side at once. "Are you all right?"

"I am, I just... I can't believe that _worked_." Haru accepts Takakura-san's hand up, thanks him for his help - all of it - and heads out the way she came, where Makoto hands her a glass of water almost immediately.

"Akira's waiting for us outside. We figured either a celebratory or commiseration dinner would be in order, after all that."

Haru smiles. "Well, we certainly have something worth celebrating."

She has no idea what she's going to go home to, and doesn't mind putting that off in the slightest. But she has friends at her back, and she's found her own voice, so whatever does happen, she's sure it'll work out.


End file.
